A New Arrival
by theglamourfades
Summary: As Anna prepares to give birth to their second child, John spends a special afternoon out-of-doors with his son. Set post S6.


**A/N: This fic comes from a prompt Bellarsam Chrisjulittle gave me a few months ago now, but I just got round to writing it. It was an absolute joy to write, thank you so much for prompting! As per request, the story is set a little over five years after the final episode of DA.**

 **This also coincides with Father's Day and celebrating John Bates being a father in canon (and beyond...!) :)**

 **Disclaimer: I lay no claim to Anna and John Bates, and to the first Baby Bates (except for his name).**

* * *

 _A New Arrival_

"Anna. Anna, love, you're doing so well. Just remember to breathe in and out, little breaths. Everything will be fine. I promise."

It was a shame he couldn't find it within him to practice what he preached; his heart pounding hard within his chest, he felt worse than useless. The low level of anxiety that pricked at him since she had shaken him from his fitful sleep - the expression on her face betraying her discomfort - had steadily built over the hours. He had paced the floor of their bedroom with her, his arm braced around the small of her back, his hand splaying to rub what he hoped were soothing circles there at intervals. He tore himself away long enough to make her a cup of tea, and hurried to drain it down the sink after it had gone stone cold, barely touched.

When the hour had been late enough, he was just in possession of enough of his senses to telephone the doctor.

John stood helplessly outside, his jacket discarded and shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. Normally fastidious about his appearance he felt only a little disgraced that he wasn't able to keep to his usual standard with visitors in the house, but it was a choice between decorum and sweating buckets.

A louder groan could be heard on the other side of the door, John growing yet more frantic at the sound of his wife in such agony.

"Keep going, my love," he called out, trying in vain to keep the quiver out of his voice. "I'm right outside. Right here."

He cursed the rule that persisted, the frankly ridiculous custom that prevented him from being at Anna's bedside, allowing her to squeeze his hand and cling onto him as much as she wanted while she gave birth to their second child. He wanted nothing more to be able to dab at her brow, whisper words of encouragement rather than shout them through a partition. He understood it anywhere else, but this was their own home where it was within their rights to dictate what was comfortable for them.

The door clicked open, and John jumped back sharply on his heels. While it remained ajar for the briefest of moments, he yearned for a glimpse of Anna, to meet her eyes for a mere second; to be assured that she was perfectly well, within reason.

"Mr Bates," Doctor Jameson emerged from the room, wearing a calm smile.

"Is everything alright, Doctor? With Anna, and the baby?"

John near choked on his words, so hastily was he getting them out.

"I think the word I would use is ' _swimmingly'_ ," the doctor replied measuredly. "Mrs Bates is doing very well indeed. She seems to be a natural at the whole endeavour."

He breathed a sigh of relief, though it was but a shallow one. Doctor Jameson was of a rather cheerier nature than Doctor Clarkson, combining the seriousness of his duties with an affable, unflappable manner. Perhaps it had something to do with the sea air.

"And there are no..." John lowered his voice, fear gripping him to even think on his concerns, "...complications?"

Doctor Jameson shook his head. "Everything is progressing exactly as it should, Mr Bates. I can assure you, there is no need to worry."

In truth he hadn't been able to rest since the last time the doctor was at their house a little less than a week ago to remove Anna's stitch on the advice of Doctor Ryder telephoning from his Harley Street practice. Her due date was approaching fast, and they had not been taken by any surprises. Unlike William, this baby had seemed rather content to stay put for as long as possible. Perhaps that was precisely what had alarmed John – that all had gone so smoothly with their firstborn, even if the exact timing of his birth had been a little unexpected.

A little tentatively, the doctor placed a hand on John's shoulder.

"All is going to plan, though it will be a little while yet. May I suggest that you occupy yourself for a few hours, preferably out of doors?"

John looked weary at Doctor Jameson's suggestion, and more than a little reluctant.

"I don't think Anna would want me to leave her, Doctor."

He knew his wife, her every waking thought and wish. In his less generous moments, he pondered on how he had let her down by not being close at hand before.

Doctor Jameson smiled sympathetically. Unlike Doctor Clarkson he was a married man, and so John sensed that he understood in some sense, though he doubted that any other living person could be aware of the unbreakable bond that he and Anna shared.

"I do think it would be the best thing for all concerned. I am certain that Mrs Bates is well aware of your support, and is harnessing it to the best of her ability."

John couldn't help but smile. Short of wrapping his arms around Anna, doing what he could to soothe her pains with his lips pressed against her temple, the thought of her keeping his words to add to her undoubtable strength in getting their new baby safe into the world put him a little more at ease.

"Perhaps you could pop over the road," the doctor suggested gently, "see how everything is going there?"

"Our deputy is looking after everything, and has been for the last five days," John replied. Knowing that the baby was likely to arrive any day – or rather, any hour – he had handed the hotel and all of its duties over to the assistant manager they had promoted from his previous rank a year ago for a few weeks, wanting the time to settle as a family of four. Plus, John wanted to be easily on hand for any eventuality, which would hopefully turn out to be nothing but good. "I wouldn't want to interfere."

The doctor nodded thoughtfully. "It is a glorious day. I'm sure that the little chap would love to be out in the sunshine."

John was caught off-guard for a few moments. The last time he had checked, William had been downstairs on the settee – a better place rather than his room, where he might have been witness to the strange sounds coming from his mother – a sizeable book open and nestled in his lap. He had made his son assure him several times that he was well and happy, before climbing back up the stairs to keep guard of Anna.

Since he had been talking to the doctor – perhaps even since before then, when he had been issuing words of encouragement towards Anna in her efforts – William had scampered back up unseen. He sat just to the right of the door to his parents' bedroom, little legs crossed in front of him. One small hand was stretched out, holding onto the doorframe. Whilst Anna groaned out again, he began to rub his hand against the wood – his own small offering of comfort – blue eyes big in his head as he stared at his father, bottom lip jutting out.

John felt his heart cracking, his urge to shelter and protect his son from a thing that was both wonderful and utterly frightening to one so young taking over his whole being.

"Come on, Will," he ambled the short distance to where their little boy sat huddled up, "what do you say to a little adventure, just the two of us?"

William kept his gaze upon his father, his fresh face showing a little reluctance.

"Mummy," he uttered, in a very brave voice despite the circumstances.

A smile spread over John's lips. "The doctor and nurse will look after Mummy perfectly well. I promise."

From where he stood, Doctor Jameson gave a salute. "Scout's honour, lad."

He had crouched down to his son's diminished height, offering out his hand. "She'll want to hear all about it later, so we must have lots of fun to tell her, mustn't we?"

Slowly, and safe in the knowledge that his mother was indeed in good hands, William smiled, his cheeks filling out and brightening once more. Using his father for support he got to his feet, John holding him steady for a moment or two while he adjusted the laces on one of his small shoes. _Once a valet._..

"Can I choose where we go?" the lad of five and a little more exclaimed.

"Of course."

John remained anchored to the spot while William toddled off to the end of the corridor, diving into his room. The elder Bates grinned heartily when the younger appeared again, a blue bucket and yellow spade held tightly in his two chubby hands, a wide smile on his still-forming countenance.

"A day at the beach it is, then," John uttered, affirming his son's delight.

* * *

It was days like this that he was glad that they had bought their little hotel by the seaside. They had toyed with the idea of staying in Downton when taking the first steps to making their long-held dream come true. At one point it had even been likely that they might take over ownership of the Grantham Arms, but the deal had fallen through before any money had changed hands. With their past luck, they had learnt not to be downhearted by the fact and instead were thankful that proceedings had not been further along.

When William was two and a half they had gone on their first holiday as a family to Whitby, and it had been a revelation to John to see how much Anna loved the little town. It was probably partly due to their son accompanying them for the trip that she was so bright and relaxed and full of life, enjoying every moment they spent down on the beach and strolling along the pier, laughter trailing behind them as they went on their merry way. He had made a promise to her some time ago that if there was the slightest thing he could do to make her life better, he would do it in a heartbeat. Deciding to start a new life and a new business were by no means slight, as was moving everything they had to a place which was not too far away but still a different horizon. But it had been more than worth it, knowing that Anna and William were both happy and secure.

They had had quite the afternoon of it, beginning by setting up and flying the kite that William had got for his fifth birthday, being exceedingly patient in waiting for the spring weather to arrive in order to give it an outing. The dipping and whirling of the arrowed fabric had whiled away a good hour, John keeping a careful eye on his son as he ran back and forth a short distance, masterly weaving the object across the sky. After that, they had paddled at the very edge of the sea – John holding William's small hand tight in his much larger one – caught sea creatures in William's bucket to wonder at and then release again when they had learnt all they could, and built a range of fine-looking sandcastles. At this very moment they were scouring the shore for seashells, some of which required a hearty digging-out from their hiding places with William's trusty spade.

His son's hair was close to the colour of the sand beneath their feet, darkening in shade as he got older though remaining fair. William's footsteps were swift, and his toes barely got stuck in the silt. John kept up the pace even as his leg protested faintly. He had vowed that for the sake of his child – for his _children_ , as there would be soon enough – he would not be slowed down, not so long as he was still able to play and recall the spirit of his own childhood memories, the happier of which he retained as a legacy to pass down the generations.

Still he found himself reminiscing fondly, the thoughts so cherished and dear to his heart, as they would be for all eternity. The many days before William was able to walk, or even toddle or crawl, when he would cradle their precious son in his arms, carrying him around the cottage or up on the walk to and from the Abbey. He adored every moment, when the tiny boy would wriggle like a worm or otherwise be peaceful and still. For a long time he had imagined that his arms might be empty, at least to a child's embrace. He would always smile wide as he handed over their greatest gift into Anna's arms, the most natural home for their son as loving as they were. As he got bigger and heavier he would still fit into both of their embraces so well, and John hoped for a few more years of that, even if he couldn't hoist him skywards as easily as Anna could these days – or at least, as she could before the course of nature made it rather impossible, temporarily.

Before long the bucket was weighed down with an assortment of shells, almost too heavy for William to carry. The intrepid adventurers went in search of food – as far as the fish and chip shop at the bottom of the beach. He had cut back on the biscuits in the last few months – to keep himself trim, and to allow Anna the pick of the spoils – so John reasoned that he was deserving of the treat. They had been residing in Whitby nearing on three years, and in all that time he could count on one hand the amount of times he had indulged in a fish supper.

"Want to finish off the chips, son?"

William nodded eagerly, hardly needing to scoot much further to be closer into John's side. John tore the paper wider, allowing William easier access to the scraps. The boy looked thoughtful as he ate, focusing on the food but occasionally letting his gaze wander into the distance where the blue sky met the less-than-blue sea.

"You know why the doctor is with Mummy, don't you, Will?"

He didn't want to alarm his son, but at the same time John was aware that the worst thing that could be done was to allow him to inherit his own tendency to brood. Thankfully Anna had agreed that they should be open with their boy, although John had thought it a little unfair when she had giggled at his reasoning that William was growing up to be _too much_ like him in his ways. _"I want him to be like you,"_ she had said, whilst offering a kiss to his cheek which distracted him from his argument. _"There's no better role model that he could have than his father."_

"Yes," William answered after devouring the last of the chips. "To get the baby here."

"That's right."

"Will the baby be there when we get home?"

John smiled down at his son, his anticipation at the arrival of their second child unable to be disguised. "Yes, it should be. It takes a little while, but we've been away a few hours now."

William screwed up his nose. "But it's already been ages. The baby has been sitting in Mummy's tummy for _years_."

He let out a laugh at his son's innocence.

"Well, it hasn't been _quite_ that long. Babies need time to get comfortable and ready before they want to say hello."

William thought for a while, a small finger pressed to his chin.

"So the baby will say hello to me?"

John regretted his choice of words slightly, not wanting to confuse matters any more.

"Not exactly. That is, the baby won't be able to talk for some time. But they'll still know you're there, and they can say hello, in their own way. They'll be excited to meet you."

William's big blue eyes stared for some time into John's hazel ones. He hoped their little boy could understand what it all meant. It had been a little while since they had told him about the baby, not all that long after Anna had returned home after her stay in London, where the stitch to ensure another successful pregnancy had been put into place. For some time they weren't sure that another child was possible. Not that there had been any problems – or, thank God, any further causes for anguish. There certainly hadn't been a lack of _trying_ either, even if they weren't especially doing so on purpose. Neither of them was sure what it was. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be. They were blessed enough to have William, and their son meant the entire world to them. He was their world. Their happiness was already complete, and to have any more would just widen their share.

This time around seemed different. There was still trepidation, in the earlier months. Anna was all too aware that she was not getting any younger and that too was a cause for concern, for a little while. But as things progressed, John noticed that she was calmer. More at one with herself and the ways in which her body changed, in its familiarity. She continued to be careful – and indeed, she was more willing to take to bed for rest over short periods – but it was the success of William, the way in which he had thrived more each day, which made her more confident in carrying their second child. Gone was the fear and uncertainty of the next moment, whatever fate it held. Instead she smiled and revelled fully in each turn, letting him do the same. Every time that he felt their unborn child move inside of her, his palm held to her swollen stomach, it seemed like he was born again. In the light of Anna's beaming smile, he was certain that he was.

Life would be wonderful, even more so than it had been before. But John found himself fretting, namely about William and how he would react to no longer being their only child. It would be entirely reasonable for him to feel strange, and even a little lost, considering that until now he had known no different. He himself had never known the joy of having a sibling, so he felt somewhat unsuitable to tutor his son in what to expect. On the other hand neither had he known the frustration of having to share a parent's love, even if he was certain that there was not a need for that to be the case. When it came to William, his and Anna's love was boundless.

"And you know that things will be a little different when the baby is here, too?" John continued, being as careful as he could, putting it in a way that William would be able to comprehend without making it seem like his whole world would be hauled upside down. "And that things being a little different is a good thing, because mostly, everything will be the same."

He was quiet, and looked puzzled for a little while.

"How different?" he asked in his small voice.

"Well," John exhaled, "babies need a lot of love and attention. So it may seem a bit unfair at first, if you're asking for something and the baby is crying, and we see to the baby first. But we'll always hear what you have to say, no matter how loud the baby is being, and even when they're being quiet. And you'll be such a big help to the baby, and Mummy and me."

"Will I still get to play with Mummy?" William asked earnestly.

"Of course you will," John replied. "You might need to be a bit patient, but Mummy will always want to play with you. And she'll be able to play better than she has while she has been keeping the baby growing."

His little face beamed a smile, one which was the image of one of Anna's. "Does the baby being here mean that Mummy won't be as tired anymore?"

John chuckled. "In a way, but she'll also be tired in another way."

"Because of the baby?"

"Yes, but also because she's very busy looking after you and looking after me. Mummy has a lot of love to give to us all, and sometimes it makes her tired. But she'll never be too tired for any of us, and that's one thing that makes her so special."

John sensed the daft smile upon his face as he spoke to his son.

"And that's also why we must give her as much love as we can in return."

"To stop her feeling tired?" William enquired.

"Well, that, and also because she deserves it."

William gave an emphatic bob of his head, as if to agree with his father unreservedly.

He was a loving child, well shown by the way he had nestled his little frame next to John, barely an inch between them. They tried their utmost not to smother him, though it seemed that the instinct for affection was one that came naturally to their boy. John was always equally delighted whenever Anna laughed full of glee, William's arms wound tight around her legs, preventing her from doing any chores. His wife's radiance coupled with his son's warm-heartedness made his very soul sing. Not long after, she would scoop him up and cradle him upon the settee or the worn-away chair, kissing his forehead and crooning to her baby boy. At night she cooed to John while she lay, her back pressed against his chest, half of her hoping and wishing that their son would stay that size forever so that she would never be able to cease the happy routine.

One of his other favourite pastimes was to come running in from school or playing outside, clambering on John as he sat at his writing bureau. The paperwork and accounts were long-forgotten as William's hands patted against his shoulders and vined about his neck, but it was the most welcome distraction. Sometimes he would watch studiously as his father scribed, and smiled with delight as he was given the chance to wield the red rubber stamp, but most often he succeeded in tearing John away from his work, gaining hugs and kisses for his distractions before they went out to play in the sunshine or the cloud.

"Daddy, when the baby is here, will you smile more?"

John grinned at his son's query, even if it was a strange one.

"Certainly."

"Since it's been in Mummy's tummy, you frown a lot. More when Mummy isn't looking. I've seen you."

 _Ah_ , _that's what it was._ Their boy didn't fully understand the concept of worrying as yet, and John prayed that it would remain that way for as long as possible.

"You see, Will, it's my job to look after you, Mummy and the baby. And sometimes that makes me frown," he explained.

"Because it's a lot of hard work?" William retorted, wearing a similarly thoughtful expression.

"I wouldn't put it like that, son," John chuckled. He patted against William's side, aiming to give him as much reassurance as he could. "It's my favourite thing in the world to do."

"Then it's silly that you frown about it," William answered, as plain as anything.

He couldn't help but laugh louder at his son's response. "Yes, I suppose it is. But frowning isn't always a bad thing to do. And you should know that I smile a lot more than I frown, even when you and Mummy aren't looking."

William was buoyed by that. "I like it when you smile, Daddy. It makes me happy. And it makes Mummy happy too."

John beamed thinking about the joy he could bring to Anna and their boy, though sometimes it seemed poor in comparison to everything that they gave to him.

"Well then, I shall keep doing it. More and more."

And soon he would have another person to smile adoringly at, meaning it with all of his heart. Having three of them to fill his entire world would certainly mean that he would worry more, probably every minute of the day, but he found that the love he had – even for the little one he had not met properly yet, aside from placing his hands on Anna's round stomach and saying 'hello' whenever he could, reading from books and getting Anna to accompany him so that the baby would be tuned to both of their voices – conquered it all.

He glanced down at William, who had taken to watching a flock of birds dance about the sky.

"Do you have any other questions, Will?"

There was something about the bracing sea-air that made it good to get them out, let them fly as the birds did.

"Will you still tell me stories before I go to bed?"

"Of course I will."

William smiled at his father's answer, swinging his legs out from underneath him on the bench where they both sat.

While John was charmed, he was a little troubled too. Mostly, and aside from the most practical of matters, William had taken to asking about him and Anna rather than the baby. He supposed it was only right for a lad so young, whose world had been his mother and father and faces who only passed by for a few moments at a time as they went in and out of the hotel. Worried thoughts began to circle his head – perhaps their happy, loving little boy might become withdrawn when another child came into their lives. Perhaps he may even take against his sibling, not in any knowing way but simply because he didn't know what else to do.

"I have to tell you, Will, that being a big brother is very special," he said, keeping his arm circled about his son. "And it's a very important job too."

"Even more important than being at the hotel?" William exclaimed, looking up with wide eyes.

They both indulged their boy, saying that he was the most terrific help to them both in their work. He couldn't do much more than wave hello to the guests and wipe a dust-cloth over the little table in the reception at the moment, but it was a good sign for the future.

"Much more than that," John replied. "You see, while Mummy and me feed and change the baby, rock it and put it to sleep, sing to and read to and look after it, as its big brother you get to do all the best things."

William's face remained inquisitive, his attention caught.

"You get to play with the baby, and hold their hand when they want you to. You can tell it your own stories and introduce it to your toys. When they're old enough, you can take them into the garden and show them everything about the world, all the flowers and butterflies and birds. And because you're their big brother, they'll listen to you and look to you to know what it is they need to do."

John could feel tears pricking at his eyes at the image he was creating, knowing that it would be very real before he knew it.

"Me and Mummy will do all the difficult things, and you needn't worry about those," he spoke sincerely. "All you get to do is love the baby. And they will love you back, so much."

He hugged his son closer, smiling at how warm and soft he still felt, the feeling having hardly changed from the first time Anna had placed him into his arms from her own.

"We're very lucky to have the baby, and we were so very lucky to have you. Mummy and I waited a long time for you, and we will always love you to the moon and back again."

His heart overflowed with love when he thought of it all, from being aware of William's existence – such a bright spot growing from so much darkness – to holding their son and watching him grow into the clever, considerate boy that he was still becoming. Seeing how Anna had flourished just as wonderfully as a mother, finding so much of her old spark and adding even more new beauty to her being. She had always been his wonder and his joy, but now she inspired him every day. The true leader of their tribe.

William's hand went to his face, brushing some of that sandy hair out of his eyes. He would need a haircut soon, though neither John nor Anna especially liked the ritual.

"I took a long time then, like the baby?" he asked, quite seriously.

"You did," John replied with a smile upon his face. "But it was worth the wait."

Before he could help him to do so, William jumped down from the bench, seizing his near-overflowing bucket once more.

"Can we see if the baby is here now?"

John plucked his pocket-watch from his waistcoat, taking in the time upon its face. "I think it might be another hour or so yet, son, so we're probably best to stay out here for a bit. But it won't be long."

Luckily, their boy also knew patience, which didn't seem at all surprising.

"Can I take these back home, for Mummy and for the baby?"

"One or two of them. We'll have to choose the best ones, and that will take up some of our time."

John smiled as William began to pick through diligently, scooping the assortment of shells into his palm.

"Daddy, look at this one!" he exclaimed, as he held up the shiny grey pebble. "It looks different to the others."

"Ah, it is," John said, his fingers reaching to examine what William had discovered. "You know, if we find a few more of these, there's a fun game we can have a go at."

William's grin filled his face, and before too long father and son were off on another hunt, searching for stones they could use to skim across the shore and out to the horizon.

* * *

William held onto John's hand all the way from the beach back to their house, only letting go for a few seconds whilst John opened the gate and closed it again. They had popped into the hotel very briefly – now that spring was here it was getting busier again with more guests after the winter's lull. But their deputy seemed to be coping well and John felt calm about that as they departed, with William offering waves to everyone.

Before placing the key in the door, John noticed the scrap of paper sticking out from the letterbox. With fingers that trembled slightly he extricated it, lifting it nearer to his face to read. Thankfully, Doctor Jameson's hand was not indistinguishable.

' _Baby Bates delivered safely at 6.02pm. Mother and child both doing splendidly.  
_ _Congratulations, Mr Bates.'_

"Is the baby here now, Daddy?"

William's voice broke through, stopping him from reading the note and its three simple lines again, already for the countless time.

John pursed his lips to stop the tears escaping his eyes, nodding his head as he did so.

"Yes, son," he managed, his emotions on the precipice. He bent a little at the knees, holding his hand to the side of William's face, stroking the boy's soft hair between his fingertips. "Let's go inside and see them and Mummy, hey? No more waiting."

William nodded eagerly, and John let out a shaky laugh as their son almost dragged him over the threshold back into their house, leading him along the hallway and up the stairs. John's heart pounded in time with the steps he took, recalling only a few other times in his lifetime when he had felt so full of anticipation and nervous energy.

As they set foot on the landing he heard soft gurgles and a few little but quite powerful cries, along with Anna's voice offering gentle consolations in hushed tones. John felt his heart expanding and his head filling with the most wonderful and dizzying rush.

Their son reached onto his tiptoes, his hand turning the handle on the door. John aimed to help William with the task, but there was no need. The nurse stood in the corner of the room, smiling at him as she turned from the bedside. Her well wishes floated past John's ears as she passed him to leave, carrying a bowl of water and a small pile of towels in her arms.

And then it was the four of them; the growing family, in the shelter of their home.

Anna appeared from his memory, yet made real once more, glowing in the same way as she had the night she had given birth to William. This time she was not bathed in the firelight that came from the grate of a grand room, but instead the just-faded light from the pleasant evening, the curtains drawn behind her. Her hair was loose and her arms were bare in her sleeveless cotton nightgown. They were filled with a bundle, well-wrapped and almost hidden from his sight, though he could see the little movements that were being made beneath the covers which told him that their baby was well and healthy.

She beamed a smile, her eyes full of joy even as she was undoubtedly exhausted.

"It's alright, sweet-pea," she aimed at William, who had taken to half-hiding behind his father's long legs. "We're both perfectly alright. I haven't seen you all day!"

Their son was coaxed out by the sound of his mother's voice, a comforting lullaby to his ears. For John it was just as much of a relief, hearing Anna speak again instead of wailing in agony.

"Come here, Will," she said softly, adjusting the newborn in her arms, "come and meet your little sister."

John inhaled a silent breath. _A little sister. A little girl._

By God, this couldn't have been more perfect even if he had dreamed it.

He held onto William at his waist, hoisting him onto the side of the bed to sit at Anna's side and take a first look at the baby. Still in a daze, John did the same. She was absolutely gorgeous. From where her head peeked slightly out of the blanket, he could see that she had the same fair colouring of Anna and William, and her eyes were similarly blue as she blinked them open after a few seconds. No doubt Anna would hope for one more child, in the eventuality that it may take after him.

"Hello, baby," William said, bringing his face near to the little one.

The baby grizzled slightly as she was moved closer to her brother and his wondering expression, and then gurgled happily once she had settled.

"Daddy, the baby's saying hello to me," William exclaimed, a joyful smile on his face.

"That's right, Will," John replied swiftly, overcome at the image of his two children and wife right in front of him. "She knows her big brother from anywhere."

As William continued to be fascinated with his baby sister, Anna met John's gaze, sharing a secret smile with him. In certain moments he still couldn't believe that it had all come to be. Everything that they had spoken of, sitting together in the servants' hall of Downton Abbey in a precious moment in which they were alone, had finally come true. The smile they exchanged, twining their gazes closer together, spoke of their sheer joy, unable to be properly put into words.

"We have a daughter, Anna," he uttered in a quiet, awed breath, staring at his wife with unutterable pride and gratitude.

A daughter, to join their wonderful son.

Tears of joy brimming in her eyes, Anna only nodded at the fact, her smile near to bursting.

The baby let out a whimper, craving her mother's attention once more, and John wouldn't deny his little girl anything. Already he was wrapped tight around one of her tiny fingers.

"She's so beautiful," he whispered in Anna's ear, before he kissed the top of his wife's head, so much more in love with her than ever before.

John watched as Anna comforted their daughter, stroking a hand gently against her cheek, and almost straightaway she was soothed.

"I think I'll have to feed her soon," she murmured, glancing up at John again while she rocked the baby slowly. "It all starts again."

"And I look forward to every second," he replied, rubbing his hand soothingly against Anna's arm.

William shuffled up a little more, reaching down to place a careful kiss on his sister's forehead. Both Anna and John smiled at the action – it seemed they didn't need to do much to encourage the loving relationship between their children.

"Would you like to help hold her, Will?" Anna asked her son, smiling at the way he nodded in reply.

"There you go, hold out your arms like that, son."

John helped William to adjust his pose – only slightly, mind – and then William Bates was helping to cradle his baby sister, at the same time as his mother did so. Not wanting to be absent from the scene, John placed his hand against his newborn daughter's soft and downy head.

And from that moment on, the youngest member of the Bates family would never be short of love, for it surrounded her completely.

* * *

John tip-toed into the bedroom, feeling happy with its peaceful quiet and doing as little as he could in order not to change that. Nearing the crib placed to the right-hand side of the bed, his smile was wide and perhaps a touch sentimental.

Peering in, he drank in the sight of their daughter – a few hours old – sweetly sleeping, her tiny chest steadily rising and falling, small hands balled at the side of her head. She let out a whimper, making his heart freeze for a few seconds, but then returned to serenity, peach rosebud lips puckering. John chuckled silently to himself, thinking how it looked like she wanted to give him a kiss.

How on earth was he able to resist?

"Goodnight, Emma Marie Bates," he said in his softest voice, his hand gentle on the baby's stomach, his lips like the brush of a feather on her forehead. She barely stirred, remaining sleeping with the blessing of her father's kiss. "Sweet dreams, my dearest. We'll be right here when you wake up, no matter how early it is."

She would probably wake in a couple of hours for a feed, John remembering William's old routines well. Anna ran to clockwork, her intuition being instinctive, and no doubt it would be the same with their little girl.

Bearing that in mind, he made sure to stay silent – striving for silence past what was possible – as he changed for bed, foregoing washing just for tonight, even with the grains of sand still between his toes. He wouldn't forgive himself if he woke Anna when sleep was once again extra precious to her. That was the reason why he had decided to read another chapter of his book once he had seen William off to the land of nod, despite wanting every second to be with his wife and darling Emma. In fact, if he could have moved William's bed into their room he would have done so in an instant.

He smiled as he approached their bed again, seeing how peaceful she looked, huddled beneath the covers.

"I wondered when you would come up."

John's shoulders bunched at the sound of Anna's murmur, shards of blue blinking at him from her pillow.

"I woke you," he noted, regret in his voice.

Anna shook her head as much as she was able without rising. "You didn't. I'm absolutely worn out, but I haven't been able to do more than doze for twenty minutes or so at a time."

John touched the backs of his fingers to her forehead once he had climbed into bed. "You should try, my love." He paused for a moment, half in hesitation, even though he was reluctant to leave her warmth again. "Do you want me to read to you? I left my book in Will's room, but it wouldn't take a minute."

Her hand pressing against his chest held him in place where he was.

"Not tonight," she said, her eyes awake and looking clear into his. "Besides, you reading to me does the very opposite of sending me to sleep."

"I'm not sure," he quipped, "I've very nearly nodded off a few times reading it, myself. It was a good job I picked up _Treasure Island_ for Will, but if he ever refuses to sleep..."

Anna laughed, her gaze full of mirth. She sounded as sweet as ever – much sweeter, even.

"Are you comfortable?"

She nodded. "A bit sore. But as much as I can be. It'll take a few days."

John made a mental note to call upon Doctor Jameson in the morning, if he didn't come around anyway, just to be on the safe side.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked, still propped up on his elbow. "An extra pillow, or..."

"All I want is you, John," she smiled, her hand stroking his arm. "Now, lie down."

"Your wish is my command, Mrs Bates."

No sooner had his head touched the pillow than Anna was snuggling closer to his side. John smiled, relishing the closeness and comfort. With the previous night's restlessness, it was so good to be back lying next to one another. One night spent differently was enough to unsettle him.

"I'll be up with her before very long, anyway," she murmured, near enough into his chest. "It seems so funny. Months waiting, and she's here now."

He felt the ache in his cheeks as he smiled at his wife.

"John Bates, if you could see the look on your face," Anna chimed.

"A girl. A daughter," he exclaimed, still in awe. "I would have adored another boy, of course I would."

"But the Bates name can carry on with Will," Anna commented, wearing his smile just as well as he did. "I know how much you wanted a little girl. I put a couple of prayers upwards when we knew for sure."

"There was no need to do that," John replied. "I would love them whatever."

Anna's smile stretched wider. "I know you would, you daft beggar."

He chuckled, planting a kiss on her forehead. Their much longed-for daughter continued to sleep in her crib, inches away from where they lay; their treasured son fast asleep in the room besides, his head full of stories.

"I thought Will would never let go of her," she said as John's hand stroked her shoulder softly. "He's being as good as gold."

"And smitten with his little sister too," John added. His heart was bursting at that fact, having fretted beforehand – needlessly, as it turned out.

"He has so much love in him," she remarked, pleased as punch. "He's his father's son."

No matter how many times she looked at him in the way she did, she would always possess the power to reduce him to a bashful, lovesick fool.

"And Emmie is her mother's daughter," he said, quickly deflecting the attention. "Absolutely beautiful, and with her old dad's heart in her hand."

"Less of the 'old'," Anna replied, her grin being evidence of how gladly she accepted her husband's words.

"You make me feel like a younger man every day, my love."

He held her as tight as he could, without causing her any additional discomfort, rubbing his palm at the base of her back. They curled together naturally.

"Do you remember the night William was born?" she asked after a few moments of them simply resting in silence.

"I could never forget," John replied in a heartbeat, letting his hand glide up a bit further upon the curve of Anna's spine. "It was one of the happiest nights of my life. Unexpected, but all the sweeter for it."

Before Anna, he didn't hold too many memories all that dearly. Now he found it hard to stop keeping track.

"Sleeping in Lady Mary's bed," he went on, chuckling at the thought. "In all my time at Downton Abbey, that's something I'd never have banked on doing."

"I was mortified," Anna recalled, her eyes going wide. "But then, it hardly mattered. I had our baby in my arms, and he felt so wonderful. And then you held me before we went to sleep, and you told me how much you loved me and our son."

John could see the tears gathered in her eyes, and even though they were ones of pure joy they still had a raw effect upon him.

"I thought then, that I'd never be as happy as that again in my whole life," she said. "But I was wrong, because I've only got happier since."

He smiled, his own eyes watering slightly. Ever since they had met, all he had strived for was Anna's happiness. At times it had been harder come by, but now he knew they had overcome – they had done for a while – and the way ahead would be brighter still.

"I love you so much, Mrs Bates."

"I love you too, Mr Bates."

Her lips tasted as sweet as her smile was, and John held her head as they kissed fully and tenderly, their first proper kiss as parents anew.

Anna's head pillowed at his chest as they settled back down, the memory of their kiss still fresh for both of them.

"Tell me about your day," she mumbled, her hand pressing softly to his chest. "What did you and Will get up to?"

John smiled as he thought about the fun that was had.

"Well, we had quite the adventure down at the beach. You know, no matter how many times we've been there he never gets tired of it. And always finds something new to discover. He takes after you in that respect. You should have seen the size of the crab he caught – he was as proud as anything, but I did make sure he put it back safe and sound. Oh, I taught him to skim stones as well. It might take a bit of practice, but he's catching on already. We'll have to do it again when we go back, and you and Emmie can watch..."

The soft huffs of breath should have been sign enough, but Anna's closed eyes told him for certain that she had succumbed to sleep. Smiling, and still holding her in his arms, John brushed his lips gently at his wife's temple.

"You rest for a couple of hours, love," he said, as soft as he could. "Wake me up when she wakes too."

Something told him he would already be awake when the time came around, not wanting to miss a moment with his perfect family.


End file.
